On my way home from work this afternoon, I stopped by Napa Auto Parts and picked up a funnel, 4 quarts of oil, and an oil filter for my motorcycle. And then, I changed the oil and filter and got ugly black chunky oil all over the garage. I feel so manly!
But I did feel a sense of accomplishment, since I have never changed the oil on a motorcycle, and haven’t changed my own oil on a car for probably 18 years. So I celebrated by going to Pho 120 for supper.
The waiter there – and he’s always there – speaks pretty bad English, though it’s getting better over time. Because he’s literally always there, and I go there enough, he recognizes me. Tonight he asked in his best broken English why I was eating alone tonight. I explained that my wife is on vacation. And so we had a little conversation that probably made him feel good about his improving English skills. He asked where she went for vacation and I explained to him that she went to lots of places, including Kansas and Texas. He then asked if I rode a “moto” and he made a hand gesture like someone riding a bike. I realized he meant “motorcycle” and answered that yes indeed I rode my motorcycle to the restaurant. He said that the weather has been good for riding moto. I agreed.